


Do Not Go Gentle

by Terminiaterc



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminiaterc/pseuds/Terminiaterc
Summary: Just a little something i wrote. The poem contained it is "Do not go gentle into that good night"by Dylan Thomas





	Do Not Go Gentle

_Do not go gentle into that good night_  
_Old age should burn and rave at close of day_  
_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

Molly hadn’t expected his life to end so quick, its seemed only yesterday he was pulling himself free of his last one, out of the dirt and mire. He remembered those fireworks, now so much like himself, loud and bright but gone too quickly.

_Though wise men at their end know dark is right_  
_Because their words had forked no lightning they_  
_Do not go gentle into that good night._

His thoughts turned to Caleb, his fire branded hair, his eye that seemed to swim with horrors from the past and a sparkle of hope for the future. Molly had never considered regret whenever his end came for him, but now he saw that a missed opportunity was a blessing compared to an almost.

_Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright_  
_Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay_  
_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

The ground was cold and hard against his back, a gentle warmth seeped from his chest. He thought of Yasha, his family, where she was, even if she was still alive. Maybe they’d meet sooner than he’d thought. He hoped not.

_Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight_  
_And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way_  
_Do not go gentle into that good night._

He was growing cold and his vision was fading, he would laugh if he could, of course he’d die whenever their healer was nowhere to be found. Jester, Fjord, Nott, Beau. Would they live long? Would they live happily?

_Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight_  
_Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay_  
_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

Darkness became his world, peace and silence. Where would he go now? He hoped somewhere good, despite what the Nanogon might have done.

_And you, my father, there on the sad height,  
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. _

A final thought fluttered through his mind as his heart pumped one last echoing beat through his body.

“I don’t want my time with them to end”  
_  
Do not go gentle into that good night.  
  
_ "Don’t make me leave"  
  
_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._


End file.
